Drown
by kylynmoon
Summary: "Ever since I was born, my true love has always been the ocean. As my life fell in shambles around me, my one constant was my obsession with the water. And after a while, after I realized my life would never stop being a never-ending tsunami of pain, I decided I didn't just want to look or swim in the ocean. I wanted to sink to the bottom and drown." brady fuller love story. (tw)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The room was cold. It was obvious nobody had occupied it in a very long time. It was quite large compared to how small the house was, probably was the master bedroom a long time ago. Now three twin beds, two dressers, and a desk were crammed into the space.

My hand grazed the old quilt blanket, feeling the cold rough fabric beneath my fingers. It was a faded dark blue, my favorite color. I set my suitcase on the end of the twin bed on the opposite side of the room from the others. It was pushed against the wall, underneath a narrow window. I sat on the bed next to my trunk, gazing out the window.

I sighed in relief at the view of the water from the tall window. _The ocean_. I hadn't seen such a beautiful sight in a long time. My last few foster homes were nowhere near the water, not even the lake. And now, from my bedroom window, I could see the Pacific everyday.

It looked nothing like the black sand beaches in Hana that I grew up on, with it's rocky shores and the almost black water, but I could feel a swell in my chest at the sight.

I shook my head, pushing away the feeling. I glanced around the rest of my room, looking at the empty beds on the other side of the room. The woman said two other foster girls would be here tomorrow. I was alone in my last foster home, the only kid besides the man's sons that would come home for Christmas. It was peaceful.

I forgot what is was like to have to share space with someone, especially two teenage girls. I already missed my last home, but glancing out the window once more I realized I didn't miss it too much.

I started pulling my clothes out of my suitcase, placing them neatly in the dresser closest to my bed. I didn't have much; a few baggy sweaters, a pair of jeans, some leggings, and a tank top. My old foster dad didn't have the time or money to go out and buy me a ton of clothes, but I made do with what I had.

At the bottom of the suitcase, wrapped in an old flowery blanket was a picture frame and a small stuffed bear. The bear was falling apart, it had been sewn back together in many places and when you touched it you would think it would just crumble in your hands. I placed it gently on the window sill that hovered just above my mattress. I unwrapped the blanket entirely pulling out the picture frame.

A woman stood on the beach, bare feet digging into the black sand. Her dark hair was tossed about by the wind and she only wore a t-shirt and bikini bottoms. The white of her enormous smile contrasted greatly against her tan skin, ocean-blue eyes looking adoringly at the small body in her arms. The little girl she was holding looked exactly like her. Ocean-blue eyes, dark hair, and tan skin. Her chubby little arms encircled the woman's neck, a goofy smile on her face as she looked to the camera.

I didn't feel the tears welling up in my eyes, I only noticed them when my vision blurred. I blinked rapidly, my head tilted back. I would not cry today, not when my new foster parents could walk in at any moment. I would wait until tonight to feel it all.

I set the frame on the window sill next to the bear, folding the small blanket and putting it in the dresser. I took a deep breath, looking around the room one last time before sliding my trunk under the bed and walking from the room.

I glanced down the hallway. There was two more doors and then the stairs I came up earlier. I opened the door directly across the hall, it was a study. Seeing all the filing cabinets and shelves filled with books made me nervous for some reason. I closed the door quickly, feeling like I shouldn't be in there.

I opened the other door a couple steps down the hall. It was a large bathroom, obviously made for many people to get ready at once. Double sinks, a toilet hidden by a wall, and a shower tucked in the corner. A towel was folded on the counter between the two sinks, with a hairbrush, a tooth brush, tooth paste, shampoo, and conditioner on top of it.

I closed the door behind me, locking it. I glanced into the mirror, I looked completely run down. Despite the nice shirt and jeans I wore, I looked dreadful. My hair was messy, the braids I wore were falling out. My skin was paler than normal after living in Washington this past year with barely any sun compared to Hawaii. And my eyes looked completely dead, like I had never felt an emotion beside pain in my entire life.

I peeled my clothes off, setting them on the bathroom sink. It took a minute to figure out the shower, but I was too nervous to ask my foster parents. I pulled out my hair ties, letting my hair fall lose around my shoulders.

Standing under the hot water, I felt like I was washing off the past year of my life. With every new foster house I stayed in, I had the same ritual. Stand in burning water and push away the memories of my old life. I let myself bask in the pain I had experienced at this time. I let myself sob quietly over the death of my mother and the absense of my father. I let myself mourn my childhood home and friends. And I let myself remember the last few years in the system, every horrifying moment.

But the moment I stepped from the water, I pushed it all back into the furthest corner of my mind. I took a deep breath, wrapping myself with the towel. When I looked back in the mirror I was relieved to see that the pain had gone from my eyes. All that left was indifference.

I walked back to the room, putting on a sweater that matched the color of the waves out my window and comfy pants. Throwing my wet hair up into a ponytail, I sat on my bed and stared out at the water.

After a few moments, the door to my new bedroom creaked open. I looked to the woman in the doorway. She looked like most other people in this town; russet skin, black eyes, and black hair. Nothing about her was really outstanding, but she looked… warm. Motherly even. Something that made me feel safe. Which terrified me.

"It's time for dinner, Sydney. If you'd like to come down."

I shook my head, gazing out the window once more. After a moment there was an almost silent sigh and the door creaked close. I let out a breath I seemed to be holding since the moment I got here.

I spent the rest of the night staring out at the sea.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The waves crashed angrily against the rocks below, reaching up the sides of the cliff as if they were itching to pull me down with them. The wind blew through my ponytail, tossing it in all directions and sending a chill down my spine. I felt my body relax as I stood at the edge of the cliff, my toes barely hanging off the edge.

It wasn't that I was an anxious person, I was far from it actually. I hadn't met any one of my fears yet. Standing at the edge of that cliff, though, it felt like all my anxieties vanished. I was here, a step away from my death, and I never wanted to leave.

It felt as if I was in the middle of a storm, but there was no rain. I was sure that if the wind was flowing in the opposite direction that it would throw me from the cliff, but with the direction it was taking it seemed to be the only thing keeping me from plummeting down.

I stepped from the edge, over to a large rock. I sat down, pulling off my tennis shoes and socks, tucking them between the rocks and trees. If I was to do this I wasn't sure why I cared if my shoes were safe from the water, but for some reason I didn't want to lose them. Maybe I left them there so my foster family would be able to figure out what happened to me.

The minute my socks were off and my feet hit the cold rock below, I shivered. I loved the cold dearly, though not as much as the waves below. I could smell the intoxicating salt emitting from the ocean underneath me. It overwhelmed my senses, sending a sick but rare smile to my face.

I let the cold wind lap against my skin through my baggy sweater. I didn't try and protect myself from the gust. The sky was lit in a beautiful array of colors; purple, pink, orange. The sun was falling into the sea, moving so slowly it was like watching clock hands.

I stood at the edge once more, letting my toes curl around the sharp rock edge. I spread my arms out, welcoming death into my embrace.

I knew that if I jumped head first I would most likely die on impact. I didn't want that. I had always dreamed of drowning, the air being pulled from my lungs and then falling into a deep sleep I would never awake from. If I jumped feet first it might break my ankles or legs, which would be painful, but it would keep me from swimming away.

A stick snapped behind me, making me take a quick step back. I searched the forest behind me, only seeing a flit of something ashy brown in the trees. I shook my head, annoyed at my being spooked by a bird or squirrel.

I turned back to the sea, the sun was almost completely set now. It was getting darker by the second. I counted down as the sun sank lower, wanting to jump just as the sun disappeared. I leaned forward, letting the balls of my feet hang over the cliffs edge.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

I was so startled by the voice that if the person wouldn't have wrapped an arm around me I would have fell. The person pulled me a couple feet away from the cliff's edge before letting me go.

After the initial shock of the person's presence, all I felt was intense rage. I turned on the person, looking up at the man with hatred burning through my veins. I wasn't anything scary compared to the guy who was probably a foot taller than me, but when I turned on him he stumbled back slightly.

He was gorgeous honestly, football player body and all. He was tall and buff, his hair cropped short unlike most of the people on the Reservation. Something about his face had this boyish glow about it, though, like he was younger than his stature let on. Despite his shocked expression, I could tell he was kind just by his eyes. He looked like the carbon copy of the main love interest in every single new age high school romance movie I've ever seen, the kind nerdy best friend that turned out to be the love of the girl's life.

And I hated him for it.

Who was he to decide when my life should end or continue? He was gorgeous and probably had the whole world at his fingertips. Everyone probably bent to his every wish and plea. He couldn't possibly have understood loss, or death. And he stood here, pulling me away from something that I've wanted for so long.

The anger inside me took over my actions, I shoved him away from me. He didn't budge, which made me even angrier. I turned on my heels, stomping away from him into the forest. Tears of frustration welling up in my eyes as I grabbed my shoes from behind the rock.

"Wait!" he called out from behind me. I did not stop, swiftly passing through the one-track trail back down to the road. He was obviously more skilled at moving through the woods than me though, as he caught up to me in seconds. He grabbed my free hand, yanking my backwards so I was facing him.

I ripped my hand from his grip, shocked at the heat coming from his palms. A shock sent through me, from my palm to my chest. I ignored the sensation, glowering up at him.

"Do not _touch_ me," I spat at him. Honestly, I have never talked much, but my mother used to say I had the most intense voice she had ever encountered. She told me everything I said held such a passion that it could knock people off their feet.

And with the shock the man displayed at the sound of my voice, I was guessing she was right.

He stared at me for a long moment before I scoffed and turned away. I stomped through the woods, so incredibly outraged. Underneath the anger, though, was this feeling of absolute incompetence.

 _I was such a failure_ , my brain screamed at me. _I even fail at ending my life._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

In hindsight, I probably should have waited a few days to get to know my foster parents and their routine before sneaking out. To be honest with you, though, I didn't plan on coming home tonight.

When I got home, face soaked in tears of frustration, the house lights were still on. I winced, I had thought they would be to bed by now.

Maybe I could play it off as being ignorant? Pretend that I didn't know I couldn't leave without their permission? I knew it was a long shot though, almost every foster home has that as a rule. Never leave without your foster parent knowing where you are.

I gritted my teeth as I trudged up the steps. I opened the door slowly, trying to reduce noise, but as luck would have it the creaking of the hinges echoed through the whole house. I cringed at the noise, slowly taking my shoes off in the entryway. I turned to the living room to go up the steps to my bedroom, but my foster mother sat on the couch smirking at me.

Nora Black tapped her nails against the mug in her hand, the satisfying sound being the only one present in the room. She watched me, slight amusement in her eyes, but also a lot of relief. She probably thought I had ran, and at this moment I wish I had.

"Come sit, sweetheart," she laughed lightly, tapping the spot next to her on the grey couch. I tried to keep my face clean of emotion, but I could feel myself frowning slightly. I walked slowly to the couch, sitting as far away from her as I could on the sofa.

She reached to the end table next to her, grabbing a mug. She offered it to me. I thought about refusing, but I hadn't eaten a thing all day and the smell of chocolate was overwhelming my senses. The ceramic was burning in my freezing hands, but I welcomed it, holding it close to my chest.

"Tonight I had planned on getting to know you at dinner, as well as laying the ground rules of this house down. Just so you know, you already broke the most basic one," she laughed. I looked down, slightly ashamed. She was so nice about it all, it made me uneasy. I thought about apologizing, but I couldn't form the words. "We aren't very strict here. We encourage you girls to have fun, to make friends. We aren't going to keep you prisoner in this house. You don't have a set curfew, and you can hang out at people's houses without us talking to the parents. You are almost an adult anyways, Sydney."

I nodded slowly, waiting for the catch. She was right, I would be eighteen in six months, in December. I was going to be alone in the world very soon, but I never planned on making it that far.

"But you are here in my house for a reason. They don't usually send foster kids to Native Reservations, especially kids who aren't Native. I am trained in the kind of help you need, though. And after the incident in your last foster home, I can't have you leaving this house alone without telling me what is going on."

 _The incident._ I clenched my teeth at the phrase. I wanted to yell at her, to tell her that it wasn't her business. That she didn't know what a failed suicide attempt was like, what is was like to be in a psychiatric hospital for two weeks.

She must have saw the anger on my face, because she reached out and placed a hand on one of mine. It took everything in me not to rip my hand away from her, I knew she didn't deserve my anger. It was not her fault that she didn't understand how I felt.

"I'm going to bed."

She was a little stunned by my harsh words, I did not mean for them to sound so harsh though. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but my body did not cooperate and I just stared at her with indifference.

"Okay, well, the other foster girls will be here tomorrow. I'd like for you to try to get to know them. You need a support system, dear."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her words. Everyday at the psych hospital those words were pounded in my head. I got up without acknowledging what she had said and walked up the stairs to my room.

I changed into my night clothes and let my hair down, before sliding under the covers of my bed. I held the blanket close to my chest, staring out the dark window. I could not see the ocean because it was so dark, but I could feel its presence there. I closed my eyes tightly, listening for the crash of the waves against the beach.

Once my eyes were closed though, something felt different. I didn't picture the waves in my mind, I didn't see the gorgeous blue of the ocean. I couldn't feel the painfully emotionless sensation that I had expected at this time of night, my time to obsess over the water.

All I saw was a gorgeous amber color, and it was the most beautiful color I had ever seen. More beautiful than the dark blue of the waves I had loved since I could breathe. There was no pain attached to this color, no obsession, no grief. Just extreme tranquility, like as long as I looked into the amber glow I would always be safe and happy.

I realized just as I drifted off to sleep that I wasn't just looking at some random color. I was looking at the memory of a pair of gorgeous eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Family wasn't something I was particularly used to, especially a large family. Even when my mother was alive, it was just her and I. I never had siblings (excluding my last foster dads sons that had already moved out). I didn't jump around from group home to group home like most kids in the system, I lived with my mother's sister for a long time before I was put into my first foster home with a very sweet old lady.

The point is, I've never lived with more than one person at a time. I had never yearned for siblings either. My mother had kept us busy with all of our travels, and honestly I had loved being the center of her attention. And after she died I didn't want to interact with anyone anyways.

Today, though, two girls had arrived in the Black house. I tried to avoid them, but Nora made me come downstairs to greet them. It was terribly awkward and unimaginably uncomfortable, but Nora didn't seem to notice.

The first girl to arrive was Vivian. She was a year and a half younger than me, but she looked to be about four years younger. She was quiet and had a hard time making eye contact with any of us, hiding behind her auburn hair as we sat in the living room. She wasn't particularly small, but she pushed herself into the corner of the couch making her look smaller than she actually was. Nora's loud laugh made her jump, but the smile that adorned her face at the sound was quite unbelievable. It lit up her whole face, making her seem so open and warm despite how hard she was trying to hide herself from us. I never smiled, but at the sight of something so beautiful I couldn't help but let a smile tug at the corners of my mouth.

The second girl was honestly the complete opposite. Jade was loud and not very quiet about her opposition to being in a new foster home. She was beautiful honestly, dark skin and amazingly curly hair that bounced around as she talked. She was extremely passionate, it was obvious by the way her body moved when she talked. Her smile had a wicked glint to it, like she knew exactly what she could do or say to stay out of trouble. I was glad that Vivian had gone upstairs before she arrived because the energy flowing off Jade would surely send her into tears. Despite how strong and rebellious she seemed, I could see the glow in her eyes. The glow that all foster kids seemed to have, the yearning for approval.

Nora directed her to our shared bedroom and I stayed downstairs. I want to hide from all the commotion, wanted to run away to the beach for a while, but Nora said she wanted me here to get to know my new "sisters". I sat on the couch silently, wanting to disappear into the unknown forever.

"Sydney? What are you doing in here?" Nora's husband, Marc, said as he came into the living room. He worked a lot, I hadn't seen much of him since I arrived a few days ago. He seemed to be a little younger than Nora, and he looked like most of the middle aged men on the Reservation. Long hair, russet skin, and black eyes.

"I was wondering if I could go to the beach."

I hadn't spoken to him yet, except when Nora was in the room. It wasn't like I was afraid of him, honestly I was more comfortable with him than her, he just never pushed me. If I didn't want to talk, he would give me space. He frowned at my request, glancing up the stairs.

"I don't see why not," he mumbled, leaning back slightly and trying see further up the steps. "But you should take your sisters."

I clenched my jaw, looking down at my hands. I just wanted to be alone, alone with the waves and the sand. I looked back up at Marc, sighing.

"Would they even want to come?"

"You know more about that answer than I do. Why don't you go ask them? Maybe they will feel better without Nora hovering over them."

With a chuckle he walked into the kitchen, leaving me alone once again. I tugged on my ponytail slightly in frustration and then stood up. I slowly trudged up the stairs to my bedroom.

The girls had already claimed their beds on the opposite side of the room from mine. Jade's loud laugh filled the room as I walked in, Vivian or Nora must have said something amusing to her. I slid past Nora, who stood in the doorway, and sat on my bed. I glanced out the window, it was a nice day today.

I sat staring out at the sea for a few minutes, wondering if going to the beach today was worth having to interact with my new sisters. They seemed like good people, they laughed and joked as they unpacked their stuff, but I honestly wasn't in the business for making friends.

After a couple minutes, Nora excused herself for a reason I didn't hear. I turned my head, watching her walk cautiously from the room, worried eyes glancing back at the girls as she left.

"Watch out, she hovers," I said monotonously, staring back out at the ocean. I heard Jade snicker behind me.

"Apparently."

"I think it's sweet. Some foster parents don't give a damn," Vivian sighed, obviously reliving some sad memory. I looked back at her. She had finished packing and was sitting on the end of her bed. Jade was putting away her final articles of clothing.

"Very true," Jade laughed, humorlessly. I shrugged, not knowing of any neglect in my experience. "How long have you been here?"

"A few days."

"Small town, huh? My last few foster homes were in Seattle." Oh, so she's a skipper. I wondered what she has been doing to get kicked out of so many, _if_ she was kicked out. I know from experience that you can be pulled from certain foster homes for things you have no control over.

"Very small. Beautiful view, though," I sighed.

"I hate the beach," Vivian muttered, seeing where my gaze was directed. I looked at her in disbelief. "Hey, don't look at me like that! It's cold, and rocky, and I hate getting wet."

"Well, I was going to the beach in a few, guess you don't want to come?" I phrased it more as a question, the closest I was gonna get to actually asking them to come with me. Jade grinned.

"Of course we want to come!" she exclaimed, making Vivian frowned. "I mean you could stay here, Viv, but as Sydney said, Nora hovers. And it's a nice day!"

Vivian seemed to contemplate it for a second, before nodding. There was a spark of excitement in me, but it was diminished by the thought of having awkward conversation and small talk for the next while. I just wanted silence.

I stood up from my bed, grabbing the oversized hoodie that was draped over my dresser. It was very warm outside, but I wasn't testing it in Washington. The girls seemed very giddy, pulling their shoes back on with an excited chatter about meeting new people. I rolled my eyes subtly, wishing I was alone for the fiftieth time today.

"You ready?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

I stepped forward to the ocean, feeling the cool water surround my feet. I sighed contently, digging my toes into the wet sand. I closed my eyes, breathing in the delicious salty air, feeling every muscle in my body relax at the same time.

I was grateful for my new "sisters" for the first time since meeting them, for they had convinced me to put on a swimsuit. I had thought they would have wanted to go swimming with me or something, but as soon as they stepped outside they told me they were just going to sit in the sand. It wasn't cold by any means, but to them it certainly wasn't warm enough for a swim.

I, on the other hand, thought it was perfect. Because of the weather there was barely anyone at the beach, and the people who were here were scattered across the shore.

I took another step forward, the water now coming up to my shins. I glanced behind me, seeing Jade describing something animatedly to Vivian as they sat on a log further back from the water. Jade then pointed to their right, making Vivian's head turn very quickly. I looked where she pointed, seeing a bunch of shirtless guys playing soccer in the sand.

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the water. I dug my feet further into the sand, humming in content. A light breeze brushed past me and I wrapped my arms around my t-shirt clad chest, goosebumps travelling up my exposed legs.

When I stood on the shore as I was right now, it was as if I could feel her standing next to me. I could hear my mother's laugh in the breeze, wrapping around my body and engulfing me in pain. I felt the tears sting at my eyes and I blinked rapidly. I should have stepped out of the water then, but I wanted to feel her. No matter how much it hurt, I wanted her beside me.

"Are you okay?"

I recognized the voice, and I sighed deeply. I clenched my jaw, closing my eyes tightly.

"I am fine."

"No, you aren't."

I turned on the boy from the cliff. He stood on the shore line, water lapping over his feet when the waves hit. He stared at me, looking me up and down in concern.

"I wouldn't think that was any of your business," I snapped, gritting my teeth.

"I would think it was, since I was the one who stopped you from offing yourself the other day."

His words shocked me, and I took a hesitant step back. Nobody had ever been that forward with me about my suicide attempts. Everyone always stepped around it, calling it "the incident" and never calling me out on it. I wasn't sure if I was so angry with him anymore.

"Yeah, thanks for that, by the way," I spat sarcastically, turning back to the waves. He scoffed from behind me and suddenly he was stood next to me, his hands dug into his pockets. When the wind blew past us he didn't shiver like I did, despite being shirtless, he just adjusted his curly hair so it wasn't in his eyes.

"You're welcome." His voice was much softer than his expression, shocking me once more. I looked up at his face to see him staring out at the sea with an odd expression.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, shaking his head. He looked down at me, brow furrowed. I was stunned by the color of his eyes, looking away as I remember my dream from the night before. "I'm Brady Fuller."

"Sydney Ka'aukai."

"You aren't from here, are you?" he chuckled. I couldn't help but laugh humorlessly.

"Is it obvious?"

"Well, where are you from?" he asked. I looked up at him once again, narrowing my eyes.

"Do you mean where I was born or where I moved from?"

"Moved around a lot?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. I laughed humorlessly again.

"I was born in Hana, Hawaii. Shipped to Washington when I was seven. Lived in Westport for four years, Tacoma for three, Elma for two, and then here. I got here three days ago," I explained. I was shocked by the words flowing from my mouth. I haven't said that many words since I left the hospital, and I haven't spoken more than a few words to a stranger in even longer, especially about my home life. I looked away.

"Oh, wow." He was shocked, but not as much as most people usually are. I stared at the waves again, trying to center myself, trying to remember what I promised myself the first night I was in the hospital. "Why did you move around so much?"

"Long story," I said shortly. I felt bad for the first time in months, I felt bad that I was closing myself off to such a seemingly nice person. I sneaked a glance up at him and he was frowning out at the setting sun. "I…"

I trailed off. I wasn't sure why I wanted so badly to apologize, but I knew that I couldn't. I told myself that I wouldn't get close to anyone again, for their sake and mine. I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself against the cold.

"I didn't mean to intrude," Brady said, his voice polite and stiff. He seemed far away, like he wasn't standing right next to me. I nodded.

"You didn't."

I could feel his eyes on me, but I made sure I kept my eyes on the water. It was gorgeous, the most beautiful sight anyone could see. The sun was now touching the top of the water, slowly falling before my eyes. The sky was alight in astonishing colors, painting the clouds with purple and pink. I had the strongest urge to run further into the water, chasing the setting sun until I could no longer move a muscle.

"Do you like the ocean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I have no idea why I asked, it was as if my words weren't my own.

"You obviously do," Brady laughed quietly, his voice soft again. I had an urge to pull my eyes from the gorgeous sight to look at him, but I refrained.

"But do you?" I asked again, more intensely this time. Brady sighed. He hesitated before he spoke.

"No, I'm terrified of the ocean."

That pulled my gaze from the sun. I stared up at him in disbelief. I glanced down at his legs which were submerged up to his shins as mine were to my kneecaps. I looked back up at his face, seeing him staring out at the sun as I was a moment before. I finally recognized the odd look on his face from before. It was fear.

I didn't know what to say, I just stared. My obsession with the ocean has been life long. The only thing I have ever loved more was my mother, but now the ocean and her were tied together. My love for the ocean was wrapped into my love for my mother, there was no telling them apart.

I never realized that someone could be afraid of the sea. It made sense. It was dark, endless, and there was no way of telling what was beneath the surface. It was unknown, and that was what I loved about it, but that could also be what others were afraid of.

Brady's face started to darken, blushing in embarrassment. Some part of me deep down wanted to comfort him, but I had no idea what I would say.

"I hope to see you again," his voice was strained. He glanced at me one more time, his eyes bright against the light of the sun. Then he turned on his heels and jogged to the shore.

I frowned, watching him leave. He joined the other shirtless guys, one of them patting him on the back comfortingly and glancing out at me. I stared back at him, tilting my head slightly. _Odd people on this reservation._

"Sydney! Nora wants us home! It's getting dark!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

I stared at the sand pouring through the glass of the hour glass. The world around me droned on slowly, but all I focused on was the last bits of sand joining the pile below. I could hear her saying my name, I could feel her getting frustrated, but I just stared at the sand.

The hour was almost up, and for that I was eternally grateful. Sitting in the same spot for this hour, doing nothing but watching the hour glass, was quite honestly driving me insane. And the women's badgering questions and statements were definitely provoking the insanity.

The last bit of sand hit the bottom and I looked up at the women. She had dark skin and dark eyes, staring through me like she could tell my whole life's story with one glance. She made me a little uncomfortable, though I have never met a therapist I was actually comfortable with.

"Sydney, you have been through a lot," she sighed, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. "You expressed to the doctor at Pine Rest that you believe that you bring death to everyone you get close with. Examples being your mom, your aunt, your first foster parent-"

"I have to go," I snapped at her, gathering my things in my hands. She didn't stop.

"-but, Sydney, you are not the bringer of destruction," she chuckled slightly. I scoffed, standing from my chair. "Though, if you continue to distance yourself and pretend like you have no feelings, you might bring your own destruction."

I stared at her.

"You pretend that you are fearless, Sydney. And physically you might be, you aren't afraid of death by any means, but you are terrified of letting anyone in. You need to make a friend. That is your homework this week."

"I already graduated, but thanks," I snapped.

"That is your homework. I will be letting your foster mother know. I will see you next Friday."

I stared at her. She turned her chair so that she was facing her computer and she started typing. I felt this overwhelming urge to scream at her. How dare she be so dismissive? She is my therapist. I felt the rage boiling over in my stomach, my blood was burning. I opened my mouth to scream, but I didn't know what to say.

She was doing it on purpose. In the hospital, the doctors and technicians would say that the only emotion that I seemed to feel was anger, so they would do everything they could to make me angry. And they were right, in a way. Once I got set off I would go into fits of rage and it was the only time I would ever talk to them.

That is what this woman was trying to do to me now. She wanted me to react. She wanted me to scream at her so that I would tell her everything wrong in my world.

I won't give her the satisfaction.

I turned quickly, stomping from the room and slamming the door behind me. I heard the clerk at the front desk call out to me, but I made my way through the office and out the front. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, or smash the window of the building behind me. I clenched my fists, I could feel my blood boiling through my veins in a painful rage.

I started walking. I had no idea where I was going, I was in Forks for the appointment and Nora was going to pick me up in half an hour. I knew, though, that if I stood in front of that building any longer that I was going to break something.

So I walked.

Forks was a very small town. I don't know how long I had been walking, but I swear I was already halfway across the town. It was late June and actually sunny, so the downtown streets were filled with people enjoying the warm weather. I kept my eyes down, sure that if anyone interacted with me I would snap.

After I attempted to take my own life a month or so ago I had been forced to see a therapist weekly. I never talked, I barely ever even looked in her direction, but the visits were pushing me over the edge. I knew that soon they would give up on me, I just had to keep doing what I was doing. And by that I mean not doing anything at all.

I didn't want friends, I didn't need any. And certainly nobody needed to me.

You kill everyone in your vicinity, of course they don't need you.

I shook my head harshly, wanting to bang it against a wall. I was so sick and tired of all the thinking, I just wanted it to stop. I ran my fingers through my hair, wanting to pull it from my skull.

I sat down on a bench near the street market. I stared at my knees, feeling the people rush past me in a daze. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to feel. The anger was so overwhelming that I felt there was nothing I could do.

When the first drop of rain hit me, I wasn't surprised. It was just my luck that a beautiful day would turn into a storm. It was soon pouring down and I could hear the frantic, annoyed voices of the street market dispersing.

I don't know how much time passed as I wallowed in my rage. Soon the only sound I could hear was my own ragged breathing and the rain hitting the pavement. I pulled my knees up to my chest, squeezing them against me by wrapping my arms around them. I was soaked from head to toe, my clothes and hair sticking to my body uncomfortably.

I listened to the cars race past, hearing the tires hit puddles with a splash. I wondered if Nora was one of them, searching for me in the rain. She was so nice to me, she tried so hard, I thought about taking out the cell phone she got me and telling her I was okay. I decided against it.

"Sydney?"

I could barely hear the voice behind the roaring in my ears, but something in my body perked up at the sound. I slowly raised my head to see a truck parked in front of me with it's passenger window rolled down. My stomach knotted when I realized why I recognized the voice.

Brady jumped out of his car, rounding the front and walking up to me. He glanced up at the sky, before pushing his already wet hair out of his face. My stomach twisted a little more.

"What the fuck are you doing out here? It's pouring!"

"I can tell."

I don't know what compelled me to speak, if it was anyone else I would have ignored them. He raised an eyebrow at me, a smirk of amusement pulling at his lips.

"Come on, I'll give you a ride home," he sighed, staring down at me. He was very close now, holding out his hand to help me up. I stared at his hand for a moment before looking back up at his face, my eyebrows knitting together.

"I'm not going home," I snapped. He did not cringe at my harsh tone, he stayed in the exact same position with his hand extended.

"Why?" His voice was patient, curious. I pushed my wet hair from my face.

"Because I am not supposed to kill myself, and if I go home I will."

I don't know why, but when I said these words I had to look away from him. I had never been afraid to be blunt with anyone, never been ashamed, but for some reason I didn't want to see his expression change. I did not want to see him uncomfortable with me.

"Well, then I guess I won't take you home. Is there somewhere else you'd rather I take you?"

My eyes snapped back to his and I realized his expression did not change at all, my words barely phased him. He still had his hand held out and he still stared down at me, now with an eyebrow raised. I opened my mouth to respond, but I had no words. He didn't berate me for my words, or tell me that I shouldn't feel that way.

Suddenly, I couldn't understand why I was being rude to him at all.

I reached forward, taking his hand. His skin was warm against mine, I'm sure mine was freezing from the rain. He pulled me up so that I was standing in front of him and I dropped his hand.

"No, I… I don't know," I said, watching him closely. He smiled, amused, his eyes dancing.

"Well, I'm sure we can figure it out."

 _A/N: I am so so sorry I never uploaded this story on here! I totally forgot my password to this site!_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"You hungry?" Brady said as he opened the door for me. I watched him for a second before pulling myself into the truck. He shut the door behind me with a soft smile and rounded the front of the truck before hoping in the other side.

"Um, I don't know…"

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, turning the key. "You've gotta be cold, here."

He unzipped his hoodie before pulling it off and holding it out for me. I stared at him for a minute before shaking my head. He raised an eyebrow.

"Take it, seriously."

"I'm not cold."

"Liar," he laughed, setting it down on my lap. The hoodie was super warm, like it had just come out of the dryer. I frowned down at it before sighing, putting it on, and zipping it up. "What kind of food do you like?"

"Anything," I muttered. He smiled and nodded, speeding off into the cramped traffic. He was quiet, which I had a feeling wasn't normal for him. He tapped his fingers against his steering wheel to the beat of the soft music playing from his stereo. Was that jazz?

I couldn't help but stare at him. He was so strange. He was a large man, probably the tallest one I had ever met, but he was so soft. His smile was gentle, as were his eyes. His voice was a deep hum, soothing in a way, but something in it sounded happy and calm. Even when talking about dark topics, such as suicide.

He was so opposite to me that it honestly freaked me out. Yes, I was calm, but my calm came from a place of depression and apathy. Brady's seemed to come from tranquility.

"What?" he said, breaking me from my thoughts. I had been staring at him too long. I felt a stir in my stomach, like a faint twist of embarrassment, but I ignored it.

"Nothing," I said, my voice emotionless as I turned my eyes to the road. He laughed softly under his breath and I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye. "Why were you in Forks?"

I am not sure what compelled me to speak. I never started conversations with anyone anymore, I didn't want to talk to anyone. I especially didn't want to form bonds with anyone, but I was honestly curious about him.

"Uh…" he trailed off, making my gaze turn to him. His eyebrows were knitted together and his gaze seemed distant. I could see the debate in his mind, he was conflicted over the topic. Before I could open my mouth to speak though, he started again. "I had to take my mom to the hospital."

I didn't feel emotions much, nothing except anger, or at least they weren't very strong. But it felt as if a hand had closed around my throat at his words. I tore my eyes away from him, setting my jaw.

"Well I-"

"Don't say your sorry," Brady said, his voice sounding gentle but strong. I looked at him again and he shrugged again. "It happens all the time, I am not phased by it."

"You aren't?"

I was genuinely curious. How could he not be phased? It was his mother. I would give anything-.

 _Stop it._

"No, she did it to herself."

I raised an eyebrow. This was the first time his voice had not sounded soft. It was cold, harsh. Almost like annoyance or frustration. He looked away from the road to me and he didn't smile this time, he just looked for a moment before turning back at the road.

"Why were _you_ in Forks?" he said after a long, silent pause. I snorted humorlessly.

"Therapy session."

"Oh, for the suicide thing?" he asked bluntly, making eye contact again. I couldn't help it, I felt myself smile. It was small, more of a shocked smile than anything. It felt weird on my facial muscles.

"Yes, that among other things, I guess," I laughed slightly. I felt a tug in my chest. I hadn't remembered the last time I laughed without sarcasm.

"Guessing it didn't go well?" he chuckled, turning off the highway into La Push.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah, a little."

I rolled my eyes, huffing out a laugh as I looked out the window. It wasn't raining as bad here, but it definitely had poured before we showed up. The dirt road was so watered down I could see the mud slinging onto the side of Brady's truck and a few branches had fallen into the road from the trees.

"Just idiots thinking their mind games can help a person want to live," I sighed after moment.

"You don't seem to hide the fact that you want to die, aren't you scared of them hospitalizing you?"

I turned my gaze to Brady again, a sarcastic smirk pulling at my lips.

"I just got out."

He hummed, nodding slightly. As I looked away once again I could feel his eyes on me. He pulled his truck into the parking lot of a diner. It was a wooden building, it looked like it was barely standing. I tried to keep myself from making a face, I definitely didn't want to be surrounded by chattering people right now.

I reached to unbuckle myself, but I felt a hand lay over mine. My eyes snapped to Brady, he smiled at me.

"Stay here. We are gonna eat at the beach. You like the water, don't you?"

I stared at him for a moment. I felt something in chest crack and suddenly it was hard to breathe. I nodded slowly at him and he smiled a large goofy smile.

"I'll be right back! You like fries right?"

He jumped out of the truck and I watched as he jogged through the rain to the creaky diner door. I sat in silence for a moment, feeling a swell in my chest.

 _Stop it, Sydney. No friends, nothing. They all end up dead._

I shook my head, feeling tears sting my eyes. I blinked rapidly, rubbing at my face. I had no idea what I was doing. I should have just let him take me home so that I could get the job done tonight. I was only prolonging the inevitable.

I looked around, realizing I was only a ten minute walk from my house. I could jump out of this truck, walk to the cliff, and be dead within the hour. My hand moved to unbuckle my seatbelt, but it was as if Brady's hand overlapped mine again.

 _"_ _Stay here."_

I felt the hands around my throat once again. He had told me to wait, he would be back any moment. I didn't want to hurt him by leaving.

The conflict swirled in my head, pounding at my brain. I wasn't supposed to make friends. No one needs to get hurt when I die, no one needs to be stuck in the middle of that.

Especially not Brady.

My seatbelt clicked as I unbuckled it, but before I could open the truck door the diner door swung open. Brady looked up to the sky, realizing with a smile that the rain had stopped. He pulled himself in the truck, slamming the door behind himself, and placing the bag of food in my lap. He smiled at me.

"Ready to go?"

 _A/N: I really loved writing this chapter for some reason, it reminded me of a few conversations with an old friend. I am so glad we are diving into Brady's character a little more now. Everyone writes him differently, but I really love the Brady I have created in my head._

 _Hope you guys enjoyed!_

 _-k_


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